Game On
by magique
Summary: Martin is coincidentally in the same prison as Zain. He’s also a psychopath. And he loves mind games. This is what happens when he finds out Zain knew Mickey Webb. No pairings.


**Title**: Game On  
by _magique_**  
Fandom**: The Bill  
**Pairing(s)**: None. Delaney implies Zain/Mickey though.  
**Genre/Rating**: General, Drama/M  
**Word Count**: 770  
**Summary**: Martin is coincidentally in the same prison as Zain. He's also a psychopath. And he loves mind games. This is what happens when he finds out Zain knew Mickey Webb.  
**Warnings**: Psychological mind games, sexual references, coarse language, creepiness.  
**Notes**: Entirely Martin Delaney's point of view. So it might be really, really creepy. Hopefully. That _was_ what I was going for.  
Mickey's nickname is based off the song 'Hey Mickey' by Toni Basil. Because I think that's the kind of sense of humour Delaney would have. I can seriously picture him strolling away from a brutalised Mickey whistling it. Aw, Mickey.  
100 themes challenge. This is for number 76: Seeing Red.

* * *

Zain Nadir stood out like a sore thumb when he arrived at Longmarsh Prison. Enough to spark a curiosity in Martin Delaney that he hadn't felt since, well, Pretty Mickey.

Martin spent the following few weeks observing. Nadir made no attempt at contact with the other prisoners. He shook off potential allies and enemies alike and his face was like a blank slate, clear of all emotions. Mickey had been like an open book. His pain had been so perfectly visible. Nadir was nothing like Mickey at all. And it made Martin wonder whether he would hide pain as well as he did everything else.

But Mickey was _special_. Mickey was _his_. Mickey had been so utterly unprepared, but prison set everyone on edge. It made you more aware, jumpier, paranoid. And Martin didn't want the same claim on them both. He was just curious, just wanted to see if he could make Zain Nadir so angry he couldn't think straight. So he began to ask questions.

Police officer Zain Nadir was good. Officer Zain Nadir of Sun Hill Police Station was better. _Detective Constable_ Zain Nadir would have been perfect as it was. But Detective Constable Zain Nadir of Sun Hill, friend of Mickey Webb was the pure stroke of luck that sometimes made Martin feel he should be a religious man. Because now he knew _exactly_ how to test the other man.

"Rumour has it we have someone in common," Martin purred, standing in the doorway of Nadir's cell. Moments to get the man alone weren't rare, but his cellmate had just sauntered off to the shower block and that would give him just enough time for this.

Zain Nadir was sitting on his bed. He didn't speak, he didn't even look up from the floor; the only acknowledgement was a slight twitch. But that was fine. It was more than Martin had expected at first and this was going to be _easy_. Almost too easy.

"Mickey Webb. Put me away, he did."

There was recognition, but that wasn't enough.

"Of course, I got my own back. Know what I'm saying?"

There it was. That was closer. Nadir's face tightened, his body stiffened. Oh, this was _fun_.

"No. I don't."

"Not really the cleverest thing to do, coming after me on his own."

Nadir looked up now. His eyes were hard. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing. You know… Must've hurt though. Oh! Goodness, I shouldn't be talking about him like this with his _friend_."

Nadir's mouth formed a taut line, his fists clenched. "We're not friends."

Martin couldn't have picked a better target if he'd _tried_. They must have had much more history than he had heard. It wasn't as straight forward as defending a friend. There was a whole cocktail of mixed emotions along with the fury. It was fascinating. It was _delicious_.

"Well then, that's alright, isn't it?"

Nadir didn't respond.

"I guess you weren't around back then because, well, you'd know about it, wouldn't you? _Everyone_ knows."

"Hmrf."

"Actually, I'm _surprised_ you haven't heard. I mean, it wasn't the best kept secret, really. Not after they arrested me at least."

He was skirting around the subject, giving Nadir just enough to guess what he meant, but not enough for him to be certain. And it was going exactly according to plan. Just a little longer and then it was time to add some more _life_ to Zain Nadir's sentence.

"You know, my mother always thought I was perfect. Magnificent woman, my mother. What about yours? Does your mother love you after what you've done?"

A growl. Martin felt it drift into his ears with ecstasy. It wasn't the same as a scream, it wasn't as poetic as pain, but it was so … fitting.

Screams wouldn't have suited him. But growls and fury did.

"Can you guess, Nadir? Can you guess how I repaid him for telling my mother such lies about me?"

The man's eyes were tightly closed, as if he was trying to suppress knowledge he couldn't escape.

"Have _you_ had him, Nadir? Have you tasted him, touched him, _been inside_ him?"

And that was all he needed for Nadir to snap.

He jumped to his feet, his eyes flashing and his teeth bared as his fist flew, smashing painfully into Martin's jaw.

"I'm going to fucking _kill _you!"

Maybe Nadir had had Mickey too, maybe he hadn't. But he'd never get another chance now. And, sprawled against the wall of the tiny cell with a furious Zain Nadir towering over him, Martin Delaney couldn't help thinking it was perfect.

End.


End file.
